


the living ghost of what i need

by orphan_account



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Light Dom/sub, M/M, Masturbation, Older Man/Younger Man, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-28
Updated: 2020-01-28
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:53:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22451440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Kimi puts his hands on Max’s shoulders and pushes him down until he’s kneeling. It’s a tight fit; Max’s knees are pressed up against the baseboards. Kimi cups the back of his head and pushes forward until Max’s forehead rests on the wall.“Good, now stay there,” Kimi says, and walks away.
Relationships: Kimi Räikkönen/Max Verstappen
Comments: 2
Kudos: 35





	the living ghost of what i need

“It’s a lesson. You’ll thank me later,” Kimi says, in that whispery murmur of his. It’s even quieter here, alone in Max’s hotel room, with Kimi standing so close that Max can feel body heat on his bare back. Max’s clothes sit in a messy pile by the door. The only thing he can see is the eggshell white of the wall in front of his face.

Kimi puts his hands on Max’s shoulders and pushes him down until he’s kneeling. It’s a tight fit; Max’s knees are pressed up against the baseboards. Kimi cups the back of his head and pushes forward until Max’s forehead rests on the wall.

“Good, now stay there,” Kimi says, and walks away. Max listens to his footsteps, closes his eyes so he can focus on where in the room Kimi went. Max expects to hear the shuffling of bottles in the bathroom, Kimi searching to find a travel-sized tube of lube, but he hears footsteps in the other direction, towards the bed. There’s the creak of bedsprings and the crinkle of fresh sheets, and then silence. All of Max’s senses feel sharper. He thinks he can feel Kimi’s odd, cold stare boring into his back.

Max’s knees start to ache. He shifts his weight back and forth, but he doesn’t move, doesn’t complain, both because he’s unsure of what the rules are and because he doesn’t want to make a noise and miss a crucial sound from behind him. The whir of the air conditioning grows excruciatingly loud. Max clenches his fists on his thighs. Kimi always seems to find understated happiness in taking him down a peg, but even then he at least touches him, looks at him face-to-face.

Max huffs out a breath, and he almost misses the sound of Kimi shifting on the bed. The rustle of fabric and the buzz of a zipper. The soft, almost imperceptible sound of skin on skin. Max groans, embarrassed and frustrated and turned on beyond words. Kimi laughs at that, a private sound that’s barely more than an especially heavy breath, and it makes Max’s cheeks burn.

“Let me come over there, please,” Max says into the wall.

“No,” Kimi replies flatly, like he’s answering a particularly boring interview question. “Touch yourself.”

Max wants to, god does he want to, but his instinctual defensiveness has other ideas. “Fuck you,” he says, before he can think, and immediately regrets it.

“Okay, then don’t.” It really does sound like Kimi couldn’t care less either way, which only makes Max more frustrated. He wants Kimi to care, in the juvenile way that screams _look at me, tell me I’m important_.

Max sits for a moment, then decides to touch himself anyway. He hisses with relief as he gets a hand around his aching cock. Whatever, if Kimi wants to stop him now then he’ll at least have to come over here and pull Max’s hand away himself. Max can’t even imagine that he looks that good from Kimi’s perspective, his back curled to keep his forehead against the wall, cock hidden, just his arm moving in furtive little movements. His corner of the floor is dim, poorly lit by the bedside lamp. He’s certainly not jerk-off fodder. Kimi’s a fool, he could be getting off so much better if he would just come over and let Max suck him off.

Kimi is just as quiet in this as he is in all things, but Max can still make out a couple of soft sighing moans that send goosebumps down his spine. He tries to imagine what it looks like. Kimi probably didn’t bother to push his jeans down past his thighs, but maybe some of the rustling was him taking off his shirt to avoid a mess. His pace is already pretty fast, there must be precome on the head of his dick, turning the pink skin shiny. He’d be propped up on the pillows, looking at Max across the room, of course he’d be looking, he has to be.

At least Max doesn’t have to strain to hear Kimi come. Kimi growls out a couple of choice Finnish swears and the sound of his hand on his dick gets louder, slick and pornographic. Max speeds up his own strokes in turn, desperately pushing towards his own orgasm, even when he can’t hear Kimi any more, when all he has is the image of Kimi in his head and the hot shame he felt when he let Kimi push him to his knees and—

“Stop,” Kimi says, and Max is _so_ close, he doesn’t have to, he could just keep going and deal with the consequences after, but he still takes his hand off his cock. He bites the inside of his cheek to stop himself from cursing or whining in frustration. He doesn’t trust his mouth, not when he’s this far gone.

Relief floods him when he hears Kimi easing off the bed and walking over. His skin tingles with anticipation at the idea of Kimi just maybe deciding to touch him. He burns with it, is almost ready to beg when Kimi’s fingertips graze the back of his neck.

“Stand up.”

Max gets on his feet unsteadily, knees creaking, cock bouncing lamely in front of him. He looks over his shoulder and sees that Kimi is staring at him after all, at least now, watching his expression as he reaches around and wraps his own hand around Max and starts to stroke him roughly.

“You did well,” Kimi says, and Max pushes into Kimi’s hand, because maybe that means he deserves to do it. Even though all Max did was stare at a wall and jerk himself off while he listened to Kimi do the same. Somehow he’s played Kimi’s game correctly, aced his lesson.

It doesn’t take long before Max paints the wall with his come. He’s shaking afterward, tired and keyed-up at the same time, convinced that Kimi has cursed him with some kind of Scandivanian witchcraft that always makes him come so hard he nearly blacks out. Kimi must notice the shape he’s in because he moves in closer and wraps his arms around Max’s middle. It’s surprisingly intimate, but Max isn’t going to protest. He leans his head back until it rests on Kimi’s shoulder. “So what exactly was I meant to learn from that?”

Kimi grunts noncommittally and kisses him on the top of his head. “‘S for you to figure out.”

Max somehow finds the energy to laugh. “Maybe I should sleep on it,” he says, and urges them both back towards the bed.

**Author's Note:**

> i went down a kimi thirst rabbit hole recently and this is all i have to show for it
> 
> title from the only one by manchester orchestra
> 
> this is a work of fiction!! keep it away from irl folks thank you
> 
> tumblr now @ redpaint


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